The highs and lows at Roe Canary Wharf

How great was that beef yesterday? That’s how my husband greets me the morning after our dinner at Roe Canary Wharf. Not with coffee, not with small talk. Just beef.

Which, in fairness, tells you almost everything you need to know about this Roe Canary Wharf review.

Because at Roe, the highs are undeniable. You can expect the kind of dishes that echo into the next morning. And yet, taken as a whole, the evening is slightly uneven, being impressive in flashes, but awkward in ways that are harder to ignore.

Quick info on Roe Canary Wharf

• Restaurant: Roe
• Location: Canary Wharf
• Vibe: massive, 500-cover restaurant in the corporate hell that is Canary Wharf
• Spend: £80+ per person
• Must order: Jacobs Ladder, lamb skewers
• Skip: burger

Find out more in the full Roe Canary Wharf review below.

Roe is Fallow’s bigger, slicker, stranger sibling

Roe is the second incarnation of Fallow, the much-loved St James’ restaurant that made its name with nose-to-tail cooking. But, where Fallow feels compact, energetic and special, Roe feels vast.

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And I mean truly vast.

With 500 covers, the space is immense. When we arrive for dinner on a Wednesday, the inside dining area feels cavernous. It never fills up while we’re there – it’s hard to imagine it being heaving.

Because it’s 24 degrees and improbably glorious, we choose a canal-side table instead of braving the cavernous interior. Outside, at least, there’s movement with the water, light, and actual life, rather than the glass-and-steel stillness of Canary Wharf.

The only downside? The wooden benches appear to have been designed by someone who actively dislikes the human spine. Relief arrives later, on the softly padded Lizzie line.

Inside, though, the scale works against intimacy.

I understand why they’ve done it, to create this ginormous space, to be filled with work dinners or corporate parties. But on a normal day, however good the cooking may be, atmosphere doesn’t scale easily.

And that slightly hollow feeling underlines our experience dining at Roe Canary Wharf.

A strong start at Roe Canary Wharf

Thankfully, the food begins confidently.

The crispy stuffed chicken wings arrive first, and they’re excellent. The meatiest part of the wing has been de-boned and stuffed with tarragon, which makes them unusually satisfying to eat. I normally avoid wings (too much bone, too much fiddling) but here there’s a generous, podgy portion that rewards each bite.

Dragged through sweet chilli honey, they’re sticky, aromatic and beautifully executed.

The mushroom parfait is just as good, being thick, whipped, and deeply umami. We slather it generously onto charred bread, and the result is rich and earthy in all the right ways. At this point, Roe Canary Wharf feels every bit the worthy sibling of Fallow.

Then comes the char siu lamb skewer, and this is where things get interesting. I love it entirely, from the smoky depth and the almost-jellied tenderness of the meat to the crisp little fried bits scattered around it. It’s bold and satisfying. My husband, however, finds it too gamey. We disagree.

For me, this is one of the best-value dishes on the Roe Canary Wharf menu. At £14, for a single skewer it’s not cheap, but it feels properly worth ordering.

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The flatbread that could be really good

Unfortunately, the Tunworth, pumpkin and pear flatbread falls into that latter category.

The bread itself is puffy, chewy, and beautifully blistered. But the toppings are laid on so thickly that the centre becomes soggy, which is frustrating when the bread is clearly the star. The pumpkin and pear are also too firm, cheese fades into the background, and the sage leaves begin pleasantly before ending bitter.

It’s not disastrous. But it feels like a dish that needs restraint. Let that flatbread sing.

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The burger that gave me the ick

The dairy cow burger looks fantastic when it arrives with its glossy bun, confident char, and tidy layers of lettuce, pickles and cheese. For a second, I’m convinced this is going to be great.

Then I bite into it.

Instead of deep, savoury richness, there’s a strangely flat, faintly metallic meatiness that lingers in a way I don’t enjoy. The interior has that soft, slightly pasty texture that tips from juicy into underworked. It’s just a bit wrong.

After the clarity of the lamb and the excellence of the beef, this feels oddly careless.

At these prices, a burger shouldn’t make you hesitate mid-chew.

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The Jacobs Ladder is a high, but not without its own drama

Originally, we’d intended to order the lamb shank (£47), only to be told, somewhat surprisingly at 6pm, that it had sold out. Instead, we’re recommended the Jacobs Ladder, a dish that isn’t listed on the menu. My husband asks if it’s the same price as the lamb – the waiter says he’ll check.

He doesn’t return.

The dish arrives.

And, to its credit, it is magnificent.

The crust is lacquered and glossy, basted in something rich and smoky. Beneath that crust, the beef collapses into tender strands that you could eat with a spoon. My husband pulls the bone clean with one hand. The following morning, he’s still thinking about it.

Then the bill arrives.

£62.

More than the lamb shank. Worth it? Probably. But the lack of clarity leaves an unpleasant edge. It feels, if I’m honest, like an awkward attempt at upselling, whether intentional or not.

To their credit, when we query it, they adjust the bill. But at nearly £180 for the evening before correction, those small moments are significant.

Price vs value at Roe Canary Wharf

Let’s talk money.

Our Roe Canary Wharf bill would have nudged £180 before adjustments, so roughly £90 per person. That places Roe squarely in serious-occasion territory, and it means expectations are high.

When the grill shines, like with the lamb skewers and that unforgettable Jacobs Ladder, the pricing feels justified and you understand the spend.

However, when dishes wobble, as with a soggy flatbread, or the burger, the cost lands harder. At this level, you’re not just paying for good food. You’re paying for polish.

And that polish isn’t consistent yet.

Is Roe or Fallow Better?

It’s impossible not to compare Roe with Fallow.

At Fallow, the space is smaller, tighter, more intimate. Booking can be near impossible. The Sunday roast there is exceptional. Service feels instinctive, mature, almost second nature.

At Roe Canary Wharf, the scale makes things harder. Service feels less seamless, with drinks written down incorrectly, confusion over off-menu requests, food and drinks occasionally drifting to the wrong table. None of it catastrophic, but enough to underline a slight lack of polish.

Fallow feels like a destination, while Roe feels like an after-work spot that occasionally produces extraordinary food.

The Canary Wharf effect

And then there’s the setting.

Canary Wharf is immaculate with its glass towers, perfect paving and symmetrical landscaping. Everything gleams and is orderly.

And yet, strangely, that perfection feels suffocating. Try navigating it on Google Maps. Or finding a street sign that helps.

You could be in Dubai Marina or Singapore’s CBD and barely notice the difference. It’s all polished, efficient and eerily interchangeable.

In that context, Roe’s enormous dining room, half full at best, slightly echoing, takes on a faintly uncanny quality. The food can soar, and sometimes it really does, but the environment makes it difficult to feel anchored.

I breathe easier once the train pulls away.

Final thoughts on Roe Canary Wharf

Some of the food at Roe is outstanding. The lamb skewer is bold and memorable, and the Jacobs Ladder is exceptional.

But the uneven dishes combined with service missteps and awkward price moments prevent the restaurant from feeling totally worth the high price.

Would I cross London specifically to dine in Canary Wharf again? Unlikely.

And that tension, between moments of good cooking and a strangely corporate backdrop, is what makes Roe Canary Wharf such a curious experience.

It’s slightly and persistently uncanny. I’m glad to go home.

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Roe Canary Wharf review
Address – 5 Park Dr, Canary Wharf Estate, London E14 9GG
Nearest Tube – Canary Wharf